


Painters and Palettes

by mermaidforeachother



Category: Free!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Fluff, M/M, Slight pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-27
Updated: 2015-01-27
Packaged: 2018-03-09 06:27:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3239678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mermaidforeachother/pseuds/mermaidforeachother
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world that is monochromatic until you lock eyes with the one who can help you paint it, Makoto Tachibana waits patiently for his Painter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Painters and Palettes

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to Shinx, for being a lovely and patient beta. My sincere apologies if the formatting is wonky, I have to upload from my phone. Please enjoy!

The day was bright and warm and the sky was a beautiful shade of blue that put ease into peoples' hearts. At least, it would be if he could see it. Makoto knew all the stories, and heard descriptions of it on television, depicted in the romantic comedies his mother was so fond of watching. She assured him he'd be able to experience colours one day, that it was only a matter of enjoying what you've already got until you found the person who painted your world . He took the advice to heart, and never bothered to despair over not yet having found his other half, his painter. It would happen when it needed to. 

 It was an altogether normal day in Tokyo, with shoppers, students, and commuters crowding the sidewalks, bodies only as far apart as general politeness dictated, and not even that much in some cases. Makoto heard there was some sort of super sale at the local market around the corner, which was probably the reason for all of the older women rushing by with determined faces. His plan was to go shopping for ingredients in an attempt to make something fresh for his dinner. However, he wasn't fond of dealing with shopping crowds. He went shopping as a child with his mother often enough to know that sales days were a brutal, or and sometimes bloody, affair. As someone who liked his limbs and dignity intact, he rarely ventured into markets when there was a large sale going on. He was too tall and broad to navigate the hordes of shoppers without bumping into people or knocking down products in the midst of trying not to hit anyone. 

Instead, like now, he waited in a nearby cafe for the stream of shoppers to slow down. The wait was always worth not being shoved and glared at by strangers. In the meantime, he ordered a large coffee and a cookie with a probably pastel picture of a bunny drawn in icing and settled into his usual spot by the large window front to wait out the unbearably large market crowds. He had his laptop open on the table so he could simultaneously do some of his college homework and people watch without hanging around a park alone like a weirdo. 

Makoto quickly found his rhythm, unhurriedly tapping away at his keyboard, and occasionally glancing out the window when interesting people walked by. He liked to guess what colours the clothes they were wearing were,  or if they had bright or dark eyes. They all looked the same to him, even though he knows there's a wide spectrum of different hues and colour combinations. Makoto enjoyed his guessing game, but longed to know for himself. His mother had told him before that his eyes were green, but what did green really look like? He knew that it was the colour of most grasses, seaweed, and some kinds of reptiles, that it was the colour of leaves in the spring and summer, and pine needles all through the winter.  Makoto wondered if the softness of the grass, the saltiness of the seaweed, or the surprisingly smooth warmth of reptiles were also an accurate description of 'green', or that maybe green was also the smell of spring flowers and pine needles. His imagination could only take him so far. 

A pretty woman walking a well groomed poodle strode by, her smart blouse and pencil skirt both light greys to his eyes. He imagined the skirt was purple and the blouse was a peach colour.  Maybe the dog was purple. Who knew? Some people did that nowadays, he'd heard to make their pets more fashionable or something. It seemed a little silly when so many people were colour blind, but who was he to judge? He still picked clothes labeled with colours he'd been told he looked nice in....just in case.

A few moments later, a tall man with a briefcase and thinning hair hurried past the window, and for once Makoto figured the grey colour of his suit was the actual colour of the fabric. Probably.

He took a sip of his coffee, almost scalding his tongue on the hot liquid, before gazing out of the window once more. He enjoyed sitting there to people-watch because the glare of the sun reflecting off the windows made it nearly impossible for people to see anything but themselves in the glass. He knew he would die of embarrassment if anyone caught him staring, even though it was only ever out of boredom and a mild interest in passing strangers' lives.

The next person he noticed was a young man on a cellphone. He was of average height and slender, wearing a casual t-shirt, jeans, and jacket. Makoto expected him to quickly walk by. Instead, his face twisted into a grimace and he politely moved out of the way of the sidewalk traffic and stopped just in front of Makoto, facing the storefront as he spoke rapidly into the phone, clearly displeased.

Makoto stared, wondering what could make him so miffed. Maybe he had an argument with a friend, or his house slippers were chewed on by the family dog. Up this close, he could note that his eyes were rather pretty. Light coloured, definitely. The young man continued to talk for a few seconds, before huffing and hanging up, sending one last disgruntled expression towards his reflection in the window before joining the crowd of pedestrians. Makoto's eyes followed the man's head of dark hair, mystified, as deep colour bled into his jacket, before he was swallowed up by the crowd.

His heart began beating wildly, pounding so hard he could feel it in his ears. The ambient sounds of chatter and clicking dishes from the cafe faded and all he could hear was the roaring staccato of his heart, and his own breath picking up speed as it shuddered through his chest. Could it be? The crowd, too, had colours creeping into their hair, skin, and clothing; many different shades, from light to dark, from calm, muted, hues to ones so bright they were nearly blinding to him. The reality of what just happened finally sank in. He could see colours! He found his painter and he'd let him just walk by! He needed to catch up with him and at least introduce himself before it became impossible to find him again.

Makoto, now determined, moved to get up from his seat, but his limbs were unexpectedly weak and shaking. Rather than calmly standing up like he wanted to, he jerked up from his seat, his knees scraping the edge of the table and knocking over his coffee. He hissed in pain as he felt the hot liquid splash on his pants, lightly burning his thighs- thinking quickly, he grabbed his laptop out of the way of the sugary drink, balancing it with one hand and deftly up righting the spilled cup with the other. His hands were trembling slightly and the laptop felt much heavier than it had any right to be, but the sting of the coffee had mostly taken his mind off of the shock of his epiphany. He vaguely noted that his now soggy cookie was indeed decorated with a pastel bunny as a worker came rushing over to him with a worried look on her face. "Oh my gosh, are you okay!?" she asked

"Yes, no worries, I'm fine, I just- I was surprised for a moment. I'm sorry about the mess, I guess my legs are too long for the tables" he said with an apologetic smile. He packed away his laptop quickly and helped the waitress clean up as fast as he could, patting his pants dry as much as possible, before apologizing again for the trouble he caused. Makoto grabbed his bag and nearly ran out the door, his heart still thumping erratically. He looked around in the crowds for the deep coloured jacket that the man was wearing, but to no avail. He waded through the crowded sidewalks looking every which way for his elusive Painter.

The crowd was still thick due to the lunch hour, and Makoto noticed that many of the people around him had dark hair, so that descriptor would be no help to him. Why did he have to freeze up at such an crucial moment? He'd always wanted to meet his Painter, and now he had, but his Painter hadn't met him.  Now Makoto worried that he never would. The city was enormous, the chances of meeting the same stranger twice was practically impossible unless you actually knew something about them. Which, he thought frustrated, he didn't.

 Makoto groaned and rubbed his eyes. All of the new colors were too much to look at for so long, it was already causing strain. It felt like he had just gotten his eyes dilated by the optometrist, making it hard to focus his vision enough to continue looking for the man with the pretty eyes. He had ended up walking around the block twice just to see if he could spot the man again, but to no avail. At this point, continuing his search through the crowds with his eyes hurting and unfocused would only prove to be even more fruitless than it was half an hour ago. Dejected, he set out towards the market to finally accomplish his grocery shopping. He was no longer in the mood to try and cook anything for dinner that night, but he still had to have some kind of food in his cabinets for the rest of the week. Maybe even rent a movie or two on the way? It would be nice to sit down with some ice cream and watch something happy, considering the way his day had gone. He would have a lot of work to do adjusting to his new vision spectrum in the  coming days so a night unwind would be welcome before having to study colours now around him.

On his way to the store, he pondered what he would do about his missing soul mate. Most of the time, when people met their other half, they made eye contact and the instant connection prevented them from not noticing their painter and passing them by. In his case, however his painter hadn't been able to see him through the window at all. He sighed, dragging his feet along the sidewalk. The only thing he could do now was hope they crossed paths again. There was a voice in the back of his head that whispered that he'd never see him again and Makoto shoved it down with a frown, telling it to stay put. He didn't want to imagine going the rest of his life without seeing his painter again, and thought it'd be twice as worse for the other person, never being able to see colours while Makoto got to. A vibrant world was something that was meant to be shared.   

 Makoto sighed again, looking up towards the sky as if a signal flare would suddenly go up from his painter's end saying, "I'm here! Yoo hoo!". Unfortunately, no such thing happened. The sky remained woefully clear of flares, smoke signals, or skywriting. It was, Makoto happily noted, a pleasant blue color, similar to the color of his mystery man's eyes, but lighter in shade and not attached to what, or rather who, he actually wanted to see. "The only thing I can do right now is keep an eye out for him" Makoto said to himself and nodded. "But first," he thought, wincing, as the sunlight glared brightly on his face , "I should get some sunglasses." 

  ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------      

A few weeks later, Makoto found himself walking in the same shopping area that he encountered his soul mate in the first time. He'd done this several times in the last month, hoping to catch sight of the stranger once more,  and each visit proved to be as fruitless as the last. He didn't even know if the guy lived in this area or at least frequented it at all. He was starting to think maybe not. At least his eyes had adjusted to the colors quickly; he only had to wear sunglasses for two days. His cell ringtone went off, interrupting his musings. He patted down his coat pockets and managed to answer on the third ring.

"Hello? Makoto Tachibana speaking."

"Hello, Mako, dear? It's Mom. How are you doing?"

Makoto smiled, it was great to hear from his family so often. It was sometimes disconcerting to wake up and not hear his mother making breakfast, the crinkles of his father reading the newspaper, or Ren yelling at Ran to hurry up in the bathroom.

"Oh! Hi Mom! I'm fine just...out for a walk" He said, casually. He ducked under the awning of a store out of the way of pedestrians to continue the conversation.

"How are you, dad, and the twins doing?" He asked.

"Just great" she said, sweetly, "Your father got the prescription for his glasses adjusted. He's wearing bi-focals now, it's rather cute," she giggled, "Don't tell him I said that though!"

"Of course not, Mom", Makoto replied, chuckling.

"And Ren and Ran are doing fine too", she continued,  "Ren wanted me to tell you that he got high marks on his science test, and Ran says not to 'listen Ren, mine were better'. Please remember to call or skype them soon, they've been arguing all week over who gets to talk to you first."

"I will, mom, I promise not to make them wait any longer than they have to" Makoto laughed softly at his siblings' antics then continued, sober, "I miss you guys. I'll definitely come to visit on the next holiday"

"Of course! We can't wait to see you again! Nobody has touched your old room, yet, so you can slip right back in there while you visit. Now, how is it going with your... You know..." She whispered conspiritively, "love-life?"

"Hmm," he hummed thoughtfully, rocking back on his heels, "I really have no idea what you're talking about, Mom."

"Oh, you know what I mean" she responded flippantly.

"I really don't" said Makoto, feigning innocence. 

"Your painter, Mako! Him! That love life!"

"There really is no love-life to speak of yet." He scratched his head. "That's if I even find him, and maybe not even then. We might not get along at all, things like that have happened before, right?"

"Very rarely. He'd have to be a real character  to find you unsuitable. You're quite the catch, I should know, I raised you!" she said, matter-of-factly. He blushed lightly at the praise.

"So, you haven't found him yet?" Makoto looked up, surveying his surroundings and studying the people walking by. 

"No, not yet, mom" He told her quietly

"That's okay, sweetie. These things can take time. You're bound to see him around somewhere- you wouldn't find your other half just to lose them in a crowd and give up searching just like that!"

"Yeah, I guess you're right," he said, "it might take a little time, but I'll see him eventu-"

The air was suddenly knocked out of his lungs. Across the street from him walked his wayward soulmate. Makoto stared at him for a few seconds to be sure it wasn't really a mirage induced by the past weeks of hopeful scouring. But no, he seemed to truly be there, expertly avoiding the people in his path, face set in a calm, unconcerned expression. His mother's worried voice drifted to his ears from the forgotten cellphone in his hand.

"Hello? Makoto? Makoto, are you alright, honey?"

"Y-yeah, I'm fine, Mom, I just-I need to go, i'm sorry, I'll call you later, okay?"

"Makoto, what is going on?!"

"I think I found him! I have to hurry, sorry, mom, bye!" 

He ended the call before she could respond, and making a note to himself to apologize to her later for doing so. He shoved his phone back into his pocket and kept his eyes on the man across the street as he marched forward, determined not to lose sight of him this time. When he got to the edge of the curb, however, the walking signal changed from green to red and cars began to zoom past. Makoto groaned in frustration, this was just his luck, but he kept his focused eyes on the dark-haired man across the street, watching as he approached a corner. Makoto bounced on his feet, agitated, as he waited impatiently for the traffic sign to indicate it was safe to cross again, craning his neck above the crowd to keep the other boy in sight.

Each second that ticked by was excruciating for Makoto, as every moment wasted standing on the sidewalk was just all the more further his painter was walking away from him. Even now, he could barely see his head of black hair and the shoulder of his purple jacket, the same one he was wearing over a month ago, and it made something in his chest clench tight, nearly painful, to see him walking away again without even a proper meeting.

The walking signal switched to "GO". Finally. Makoto was beginning to think uncharitable things about the state of the city's traffic laws, regardless of their effectiveness in safety. He stepped forward with the rest of the crowd, trying to move swiftly through them, but unable to do so without outright pushing and shoving at the others to make his way through. He supposed they would not take kindly to that, like any rational person wouldn't, so he refrained from manhandling his way past them, even though he wanted nothing more than to break into a sprint without having to worry about accidentally knocking into someone.

The young man he was chasing was not so far off from him as to be unreachable yet. Makoto willed the crowd to disperse, and breathed a sigh of relief once his feet touched the opposite curb at long last. He set a swift pace while walking as fast as he could go without jogging- and did his best to dodge the people around him. He was so focused on following his target that he didn't notice the cafe sign propped up outside of a passing shop until he ran into it. With a shout, he tripped, making both the unfortunately placed sign and himself fall to the ground in a painful jumble. He righted himself and then the sign, and delicately brushed off his stinging palms, trying not to wince as he did so. They were red an tender, but thankfully not scraped bad enough to bleed.

"Are you alright!?" A concerned voice asked. Makoto turned towards it. A worker who had seen his tumble came out to check on him. Makoto smiled sheepishly. "Yes, I'm fine, thank you. I wasn't paying attention to where I was going. Your sign is okay, too" he said as he gestured towards it. "Not even a scratch! Sorry about that." Makoto chuckled awkwardly.

The cafe employee looked at the sign then Makoto and nodded, "As long as you're okay, no harm done. Just be careful of where you're walking next time, or you might get more than light scrapes."

The brunet took the light lecture from the employee good naturedly, relieved at not causing much of a scene this time, although he knew there were a couple people who were chuckling at his clumsiness, as he could feel their eyes on him and hear their snickers as they passed. He thought it a little rude, but not unexpected.

"Yes, I'll be more careful, sorry for the commotion; I'm not usually that clumsy. Have a good day" he bowed his head lightly, and the worker waved goodbye as Makoto set off again, at a slower pace. A few moments later, he looked back to make sure the worker wasn't looking in his direction, and started to lightly jog.  He could still see the person he was following up ahead, leisurely walking down the street without bothering to look into the various store windows. It was with a jolt that Makoto realized he was probably headed towards the subway entrance near the corner.

He sped up his pace, knowing that if he didn't stop the man from getting on the underground, it would be a very long time before he saw him again. He didn't want that to happen! He wanted to properly meet his painter, and say hello, and learn his name and hobbies. He wanted the chance to get to know him and see where their lives could fit together. He wanted to get a closer look at his eyes and see exactly how blue they were, and most of all, for him to see how beautiful the world looked with all of its colours radiating from every surface. He could feel his heart thumping in his chest and he wasn't sure if it was from the jogging or the strange mix of anxiety and excitement that was rushing through his veins. It was almost like anticipation, but somehow heavier, more meaningful, like he was on the edge of something great and about to fall forward.

His foot caught on an uneven crack in the sidewalk and he tripped, pitching forward into the oncoming path of an elderly woman. His eyes widened and connected with those of the woman, their expressions illustrating their mutual doom. Makoto did his best to twist his body at the last second, and awkwardly hop to regain his balance, and in the end, managed to avoid hitting her by the skin of his teeth. She was so surprised, however, that she squeaked and dropped her purse, spilling its contents onto the concrete. He immediately bent down to retrieve the scattered items, "I-I'm so sorry, Ma'am, are you alright? I didn't hit you, did I?" He'd tried his best not to, but it was hard to tell with the gymnastics he'd had to pull off to do so.  The old woman let out a deep breath in relief, patting her chest in reassurance.

"Yeah, I'm okay. You just startled me is all, you took such a dive I thought you'd surely hit either me or the concrete."

Makoto smiled apologetically, politely handing the items in his hands to her. "Sorry, again, this had been happening a lot."

"Is it a habit of yours?" She asked as he finished helping her. "Oh, thank you" 

"I really hope not" he mumbled, "but you're welcome, Ma'am." He glanced in the direction of his soul mate to gauge his progress. Still visible.

"What has you rushing all in a tizzy?" She inquired, "Meeting someone special?" "Uhm! Yes, sort of." He shuffled, slightly awkward, "My painter.."

 "Oh! Then, don't let me keep you!" She said, patting her purse, "I'm all set here, as you can see."

 "If you're sure.." He said hesitantly, not wanting to rudely leave her there if she still needed help.   

"Yes, I'm sure, now go on." She made a shooing motion with her hands. "We're blocking the sidewalk anyway. Have fun on your date!"

"Goodbye then!" He smiled and waved as he jogged away, not having the time to explain the utter lack of dates he'd been having with his supposed perfect match.   

The old woman smiled to herself as she watched the nice young man hurry off to meet with his painter, his gray hair bouncing lightly as he ran. Ah, the excitement of youth and the rainbows that came with it, she mused, "I hope his date goes well.."

 After nearly bumping into the old woman, Makoto jogged along the sidewalk, carefully avoiding people and signs until he caught sight of the young man again. He had thankfully not changed route at all. Makoto noted that he'd been correct in his assumption that the man was headed towards the subway, it was currently within sight and the man still showed no inclination to move around the entryway. He had to catch up to him before the next train left. Makoto moved from a job into a full blown sprint, adrenaline fueling him. He was so close! With his long legs, he quickly closed the distance, stopping nearly ten feet behind the person he'd been following, breathing heavily from exertion.

  "Hey! Excuse me!" He shouted. No response, perhaps his painter was hard of hearing? He lazily jogged the last few feet between them and called out again, "Mister! Excuse me!" Now that he was closer, he could see that he was wearing headphones. Of course. The third time's the charm. This time, instead of calling out to him, Makoto gently grabbed the shoulder of the man in front of him, while still trying to catch his breath.

 At the feeling of someone grabbing his shoulder, the man jolted and turned around swiftly, easily tearing his shoulder out of Makoto's light grasp.

Makoto looked down, breathing deeply to calm his racing heart. Now that he was here, and had unthinkingly grabbed a stranger who was probably just heading home and didn't want to be bothered, he wasn't sure what to say or do. He heard an irritated "What the-?" from the man in front of him. 

  Swallowing with his suddenly dry throat, Makoto steeled himself and subtly wiped his twitching, clammy, hands onto his jeans, before bowing in greeting, "Sorry for grabbing you like that! My name is Tachibana Makoto and I was wondering if you'd like to have coffee with me sometime?" 

He waited in a few awkward moments of silence that seemed to stretch on endless and oppressive, then slowly lifted his head. He'd hadn't gotten a response yet, which was a little disappointing, but not unexpected, considering he literally popped out of nowhere to talk to someone he'd never met before. Blue eyes met green, and the strangers' widened in surprise as he stared in shock and wonder at Makoto. 

 Several heartbeats passed as Makoto waited with baited breath to see if his painter would respond at all to his strange request or blow him off. The other man opened his mouth and closed it several times, seemingly searching for words to say. Finally, he answered slowly, almost hesitantly, "I'm Nanase Haruka and...I prefer tea to coffee."

 Makoto closed his eyes and smiled widely, letting go of the breath he was holding. He felt like he could walk on air, even though he had just been running through crowds of people and embarrassed himself publicly multiple times. He wanted to laugh and whoop in joy and hug his painter, Haruka. Instead, he opened his eyes and continued to smile full force at him, reveling in the moment.

Haruka, seeing Makoto smile carefree, looked away, blushing a little. He was embarrassed that his acceptance to the sudden proposal was the reason for such a smile to grace Makoto's face. When he looked back up to see Makoto still smiling at him, he coughed lightly, and shifted on his feet, feeling a little out of place and odd at having all of this happen in such a public place. Seeing colours for the first time, seeing his painter for the first time, he never thought about it much, but he certainly never imagined it'd be in front of a subway entrance. Not that he was feeling begrudged towards Makoto, he seemed nice, or he wouldn't have accepted the offer for coffee, painter or not. But if this man's personality was truly as dazzling as his eyes and smile well then...he didn't want to have these kinds of revelations in public.

Hearing the light cough from Haruka, Makoto straightened up and did his best to wipe the grin off his face before it got stuck like that. He thought it wouldn't be too bad, as long as he could always remember the reason for it, but reasoned it wouldn't be worth it if it would make talking with Haruka difficult. The most challenging part was over. Or maybe it was just beginning, he wasn't sure, but he had come this far so the only place to go was forward, so, he boldy asked, "Are you busy right now, Haruka?" 

 "Call me 'Haru'. And..." He looked back towards the subway briefly as if debating something. "No, not really, did you have someplace in mind?"

 "There's a really good café not far from here...if you don't mind a bit of a walk." 

   Truthfully? His feet hurt and his eyes were starting to ache, but looking at how elated Makoto was made his physical pains insignificant. He'd only known him a few short seconds, but already, Haruka could sense warmth about him that made him feel at ease, and he wanted to know how far that could go, wanted to explore the colours between them blooming right before his eyes, so instead, he shook his head and said "No, I don't."


End file.
